


All Your Philosophies

by Aris Merquoni (ArisTGD)



Series: Hand More Instrumental [2]
Category: Babylon 5, House M.D.
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Character of Color, Community: crossovers100, Crossover, Gen, In the future everyone is bisexual, Space medicine makes no sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-16
Updated: 2008-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-06 23:56:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArisTGD/pseuds/Aris%20Merquoni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House is not fond of adorable children who aren't dying of anything diagnostically interesting. Circumstances seem to be conspiring to drag him into Dr. Franklin's newest charity case anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Your Philosophies

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the Babylon 5 episode "Believers."

"... and Dr. Franklin hopes that if we try this stuff out the parents might be willing to talk about stuff like keyhole surgery and thin-wire; just right now they won't hear it," Chase was explaining excitedly when House made it to the office.

House paused and tapped for a shot of metazine. If this was how his morning was starting, he wanted to be ahead of the game. "Let me guess," he announced, and the three doctors' heads snapped up with gratifying speed. "This is about our new Chief of Staff's new pet project in Medlab One."

Cameron and Foreman looked guilty and unimpressed, respectively. Chase jammed his hands in his pockets and said, "I was there when Hernandez got the case; she asked me to assist until Franklin showed up." His expression was innocent, but behind it was the slight glow of excitement, of the possibility of being the sensitive-yet-manly super-doctor who saves the dying kitten in the middle of an explosion at the knives-and-arsenic-factory. Of being someone better than Chase, in other words.

"Sorry," House said. "Sick kid's off limits. Find another playdate."

Chase's expression changed to annoyed confusion. "What're we doing down here?" he asked.

"Waiting for something _interesting_ to show up," House said, crossing to his desk. "And a routine surgery complicated only by the religious nuttery of the patient's parents does not qualify."

There were glances being exchanged behind his back. He'd learned to hear them. "Well," Chase said after he'd consulted Cameron and Foreman's expressions, "until something interesting does show up, Dr. Franklin said he'd be happy to have my help in Medlab One."

"This is blackest mutiny," House complained as Chase left.

* * *

"So why do you even care?" Wilson asked him at lunch.

House rolled his eyes. "I don't want Franklin co-opting my staff any time he feels like it."

"Chase volunteered," Wilson pointed out. "And technically, Dr. Franklin _can_ co-opt your staff any time he feels like it. He's the Chief of Staff."

"Oh, fine, rub it in."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "You didn't even _want_ the job," he said. "And after what you pulled with Ambassador Kosh, Earthdome wasn't about to let you keep it."

"It's the principle of the thing."

"You don't have any principles."

"Dr. House," Dr. Franklin said, walking up to their table and putting an effective lid on House's no-doubt devastatingly witty retort. "Good, I wanted to ask you: can I borrow Dr. Chase for a while if you don't need him in Medlab Three?"

House took a bite of the blue protein mix, which tasted slightly less vile than the red protein mix. "You don't need my permission," he said with his mouth only slightly full.

Franklin shot him the look House had correctly identified as the _Oh I was **warned** about you_ expression. "I think he could be a real help with this case; he and the kid are developing a good rapport."

"Well, if he's got a _rapport_, certainly nothing can go wrong at this point."

"I think," Franklin explained patiently, "that if we can get through to the kid, we might be able to get through to the parents, and they'll agree to let us operate."

"Or they won't, and he'll choke to death on his own spit," House suggested as an alternative. "Where were they going to go next? I hear the Minbari have some good technology; maybe they should have gone there."

Franklin crossed his arms. "You know, Dr. House, I read your file," he said as though he were making a point. "I wanted to know who I'd be dealing with when I took over from you. And I noticed that this is exactly the sort of case you'd run roughshod over, badgering the patient and the relatives until they did exactly what you wanted them to do."

"So?"

"So isn't it a little hypocritical to suggest I shouldn't try the same?"

"Mmm," House said, taking another spoonful of his lunch. "I'm not Chief of Medlab any more. Maybe that's the lesson to take away."

Franklin watched him eat for a couple seconds, then said, "So can I borrow Dr. Chase?"

"Sure, fine," House said. "Keep him entertained for a while."

Franklin nodded and left. House worked on his food for a few seconds until he couldn't stand Wilson's stare anymore and asked, "What?"

"He's right, you know," Wilson said. "That would be just like you."

House rolled his eyes. "Eat your vegetables."

* * *

Of course, down in Medlab 3 things were often boring, because most of the time the actually interesting alien cases had to be packed off to their homeworlds as soon as they were stabilized, because giving away enough information to actually _treat_ diseases to a _Human_ medical staff was unthinkable for most alien governments. House occasionally wished for complete and total interstellar peace and understanding so he could have a fully searchable multispecies medical database at his fingertips. And a pony.

"So they don't want their kid exposed to heretical viewpoints?" Cameron asked, amused, when she thought House couldn't hear just because he had his headphones on in the corner.

"Yeah," Chase replied. He was smiling sheepishly. "Not that debating religion ever works, y'know, I just thought if I talked about Foundationism it might give us some common ground. No dice."

"Aren't you pretty lapsed, anyway?"

"Yeah, well, I'm sure that didn't help."

Chase even managed to talk Foreman into helping.

"They've managed to expand the definition of 'puncture' far enough that the word loses all meaning," Foreman griped. He didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed when House glared at him. "I mean, I know there are translation difficulties, but come on. Laser-torching the glob with a probe shoved up the kid's nose is not surgery."

When he caught Wilson discussing the patient with Dr. Franklin, House knew he'd have to actually do something.

"This is a bad idea," he said to Wilson, the first step in his brilliant 'do something' plan involving chewing out the do-gooder over drinks at a bar.

Wilson shrugged. "There are some cancer treatments that could possibly be tinkered to destroy the cells in the growth without--"

"It's not a cancer," House objected, "and it doesn't matter anyway. The point is, those parents are not on our side."

"Our side?" Wilson smirked at him, and House scowled and tapped his cane against the bar. "So you've joined in on the save-the-helpless-kid bandwagon with the rest of us?"

"I'm not the one proposing _cancer remedies_ for a stuffy nose," House said.

"Well, if the parents would let us try anything that would work," Wilson complained, then shook his head. "What am I saying. You don't care. You think the parents are idiots, and it confuses everyone in medlab that you aren't jumping at the chance to prove someone wrong."

"I already know they're wrong," House pointed out. "The case is diagnostically boring. And the parents are pushing it to the point where Franklin's going to have to overrule their authority or let the kid die."

"So what's your problem with it? You hate patients having authority."

"My problem is that Chase is taking it too seriously," he snapped. "He's my employee, and he never should have been caught up in this mess."

Wilson blinked at him a few times, then said, "You're concerned about Chase?"

"He's bringing the entire team down with him," House muttered.

"You do care," Wilson said. "That's so sweet."

"This is going to end poorly."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "What would you be doing if the kid were your patient, huh?"

House shook his head. "Wouldn't happen."

"But if he were, you'd badger the parents until they complied or they took the kid out of medlab, and you'd fight with Sinclair to get an injunction, right?"

"Yeah. Well, look how well it turned out the last time that happened."

"Ambassador Kosh is back on his feet." Wilson paused, then frowned slightly. "If he has feet, that is."

"And my staff were useless for weeks afterward," House griped.

"Chase has lost patients before," Wilson said. "We all have. It's something you have to cope with. It won't kill him."

House grumbled subvocally for a moment, tilting his glass on the bar and watching the refraction patterns from the lights. "And if it does," he said aloud, "I get to hire someone _useful._ But where will I find another doctor that pretty?"

"I give up," Wilson said, as House knew he would. "Carry out this weird crusade by yourself; I'm going to keep helping with the case."

"Make sure Chase eats his vegetables, too," House said. "No point in having that hydroponic garden if you don't take advantage of it."

* * *

House was flipping through the entertainment channels in his room that evening when the door chimed unexpectedly.

It was Jeff. He looked like he'd just completed two med students' residencies. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," House said. "Want a drink? You look like you could use one."

"No, no, I need my mind working." The commander slumped down on House's couch, waited for House to join him. "What do you know about Dr. Franklin's patient?"

"I assume you mean the sick, cute alien kid," House said. "Technically they're _all_ his patients."

Jeff gave him a look. "Yes. That one."

House sighed, tapped his cane on the floor. "Situation seems pretty clear. Kid needs an operation, parents won't let him."

"Dr. Franklin has asked me for an injunction against their authority."

Tapping his cane on the floor wasn't yielding any solutions. He hated it when that happened. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know."

House eyed him. "You had to know I'd argue for the surgery. So why'd you come here?"

"Because I want to do what's right." Jeff pushed himself to his feet and started pacing, shoulders hunched, nearly humming with frustration. "Because I don't know what's right for the kid, the family. Because this isn't just about one kid, it's about the neutrality of the station."

"Now you're exaggerating."

"Am I?" Sinclair scowled, suddenly in full-on Commander mode. "I've got the Narns on one side, the League on the other, and Earthdome at my back. All of them want us to show no preference to our own prejudices when dealing with aliens."

"But what if those prejudices save a life?"

"Is life worth it if you think you're dead? Soulless? Damned?" Sinclair shook his head. "Shon doesn't want the operation."

House shrugged. "Well, that makes it easy, then."

"Dammit, Greg--"

"The right thing to do," House cut him off before he could keep complaining, "is what will save lives."

"Lives." Jeff sighed. "Not necessarily..."

"If you want to save the kid's life," House said, very slowly and clearly, "you'll have to let Franklin operate. If you want all those other things you mentioned, you should deny the injunction and let the kid's parents take him home to die."

"You think I should let Franklin operate."

House stared at him for a long moment, then said, "I think the parents know exactly what choice they're making."

* * *

"Sinclair denied the injunction," Chase said angrily when House got to work in the morning.

House pondered turning around, going back to his quarters, and shooting a syringe full of pure morphozine into his spine. "Yeah," he said instead, "figured that'd be his choice."

Chase scowled. Cameron looked up with doe-eyed innocence and asked, "So that kid is just going to die?"

"Shon," Chase corrected her.

"Yeah," House said. "That's what 'not breathing' causes."

Foreman sighed. "Score one for the forces of ignorance."

House shook his head, crossed to his console. "It'll be over soon, anyway."

Chase threw up his hands and headed for the door. House ignored him as Cameron and Foreman stared.

Chase stayed absent for the rest of the day. Their only case was a Brakiri woman with a hacking cough, who they quickly diagnosed as being allergic to one of the station cleaning products. Lung material sloughing off, it turned out, was a Brakiri allergic reaction, as was skin material sloughing off, which they quickly stopped with some dermaspray and anti-allergy medication. House let Cameron read the woman bedtime stories while checking on her condition and kept his ear to the ground for an explosion from Medlab One.

It came that evening, when Sinclair stormed into their office. "Dr. House, I need to talk to you,"

"He needs to talk to me," House repeated in Foreman's direction. "You get to finish the paperwork." He grabbed his cane, nodded at Sinclair. "Let's walk."

"Franklin just went and performed the surgery against my orders," Sinclair seethed as soon as they were in the corridor.

"I figured he'd do that," House said.

"He got Dr. Chase to--what?"

House shrugged. "I figured you'd rule to retain parental authority, and I figured he'd ignore you and do it anyway."

"You approve?"

He shrugged again, since it had such an effect last time. "Kid's alive, isn't he?"

"And breathing. The parents are furious."

"Seems kinda funny to me."

"Greg..."

That sound was Sinclair about to start grinding his teeth. House took a moment to collect his thoughts, then said, "Well, this way, the parents are upset with Franklin, not with you. You still get to maintain B-Five's neutrality, and everyone lives."

"If I fire Franklin, do you want the job again?"

House winced. "When I've got Medlab Three decorated just like I want?"

"He offered to resign if I wanted it. I'm tempted to take him up on it."

"No thanks."

Sinclair sighed. "All right. I won't bring it up again."

"Well, don't say that. I'm flattered." He stopped walking, pulling Sinclair up short. "I'll give Chase a slap on the wrist. Anything else?"

"I'll let you know."

By the time House got back, Chase was there, chin raised belligerently. "You," House said, pointing, "Six hours extra in walk-in this week."

"I did what was right," Chase said stubbornly.

"I didn't ask a question," House pointed out, "And that wasn't an answer."

"Right," Chase said, pushing past him for the door again. House resisted the urge to trip him with his cane.

House sighed and sat down at his desk, called up his messages.

"Cameron," he said a moment later. "Go bring Chase back here."

* * *

"They did what?" Wilson said incredulously.

"Get out of the way so the door can close," House said, waving a beer at him. Wilson stepped inside, staring at him with that blank expression that made him finally snap, "Shon's parents _killed him_."

"Does... does Franklin know?"

"He's the one that sent me the message," House pointed out.

"Does _Chase_\--"

"Broke it to him myself."

Wilson swallowed hard, then grabbed the beer and sank down onto the couch. "Can they even _do_ that?"

"Well, yeah, the syringe was _right there_," House said. "Oh, wait, you mean legally. Apparently yes, under their laws and station neutrality, which Sinclair is so desperate to keep intact."

"That's sick," Wilson said flatly.

House sighed. "Forces of ignorance," he said. "In the end, they tend to lose, but they rack up a lot of points in the meantime."

* * *

The door swung shut behind him, and Chase was face-to-face with the Vorlon ambassador. Well. Face-to-encounter suit. He took a breath of air that tasted of rubber and plastic, and tried not to stare too hard. "Ambassador... thanks for, uh, agreeing to see me. I don't know if you remember..."

Ambassador Kosh didn't make a sound as he trailed off uselessly, just tilted his head and waited.

Chase closed his eyes to steady himself for a moment. "I was part of the team who helped keep you stable after your assassination attempt," he explained. "And we... I... saw something. That you... were. And I... I've been thinking about it. A lot."

Still no sound. He'd been warned. The ambassador was never forthcoming.

"I just--" he said suddenly, fervently, "this has been--I don't know where anything stands, anymore. How the universe can hold together when people keep not caring and not helping and killing each other with no... no reason, no pattern, just this chaos everywhere. I don't know what to do." Kosh didn't react, and Chase could feel his voice choking up as he begged, "I just need to see... something. I just need to know that you're--that someone--that _something_ is going to take care of it all. I just need..." he trailed off, into the silence and the hissing of atmosphere jets, and only barely got the will to ask once more, "Please."

For a long moment, he thought nothing was going to happen, that he'd come in vain.

Then the latches clicked on the ambassador's suit, and the headpiece swung out of the way for him to emerge. And eyes wide open, Robert Chase felt his soul bathed in light.


End file.
